Eleanora H. Stooke

“ It must be very, very nice to have money," she proceeded, "but mother says there are greater blessings than riches, and if we haven't money to give away we can give what we have—our time, or kind words, or sympathy, that all counts with God. It's easy to give money if you've got it. I daresay Uncle John gives away a good bit, doesn't he?"
"I don't know, I'm sure," Edgar answered. "I never heard him say. I daresay he does, for he has plenty of money, you know."
"Yes, I know," returned Polly, nodding her head sagely, "and so've you, haven't you? You get a lot of pocket-money, don't you?" ”

“ Edgar Marsh had told Roger on one occasion, much to the latter's surprise; "it's such a stupid day. I go to church with mother and father in the morning, I don't mind that; but in the afternoon I never know what to do with myself: father generally shuts himself up in his study and tells me not to bother him—I suppose he goes to sleep—and mother reads in the drawing-room. Don't you hate Sundays, too?" ”

“ When boys get together they always lead each other into mischief."
"Please forgive me, father," murmured Edgar.
"You should have owned the truth at once," Mr. Marsh told him gravely, "nothing angers me so much as to catch you in a lie. Well—" he looked dubiously from mother to son—"I suppose I must forgive you this time and not punish you, though I'm not certain I'm doing my duty in letting the matter pass so easily. I hope, Janie," he added, pointedly addressing his wife, "that you will give Edgar a good talking to; and remember Roger Trent is never to come here again unless you are at home." ”

“ You are the mistress of the Mill House, Cousin Becky, and we are really your guests; we have no one to thank but you."
"Yes," Cousin Becky acknowledged, "that is so. My secret has been a harmless one, and I have enjoyed keeping it. No wonder you all look puzzled!" She laughed as she met the bewildered glances of Mrs. Trent and the young people. "Let me explain. You took it for granted I was poor, and I did not undeceive you, for your sympathy was very sweet to me, and I was very lonely and sad. One may be rich in pocket and very poor in other ways. ”

“ Do nothing of the kind, Polly and I must forbid you to interfere in this affair of the Calais Noble, my dear, it will be sifted out, never fear; your father will see to that. It will be better, for everyone concerned, not to make a fuss about it. I have not the slightest fear on Roger's account, though I think it is not unlikely that he knows something about the Calais Noble, that I must find out. It has hurt me very deeply to hear of your uncle's suspicion, but I am confident Roger will be able to clear himself from it. The truth always prevails, you know. ”

“ I suppose they don't mind how much coal they use at the Rookery. Mother, it doesn't seem fair that Uncle John and Aunt Janie should be so rich when we are so poor. I don't believe they're any better than we are."
"Oh, hush, Polly!" cried Mrs. Trent. "You mustn't speak like that. Think of all our blessings. Sometimes I feel a very rich woman indeed."
"Why, mother!" exclaimed Roger in amazement.
"Rich because I have a good husband and children who give me a wealth of love," Mrs. Trent went on to explain with a smile which made her face look very pretty and young. ”

“ A good fire is always such a welcome, I think. And what a cosy room!" And the bright, dark eyes wandered around the apartment with its worn Brussels carpet and well-used furniture, with appreciation in their gaze.
"I believe you will find the house comfortable, though small, and—I'm afraid—rather shabby," Mrs. Trent replied.
"It is a home," Cousin Becky declared with a pleased nod. "I've been in many large, handsomely-furnished houses that have never been that. Well," she said, turning her glance upon Polly, who had been watching her intently, "do you think you will like me, my dear?" ”

“ Edgar said persuasively, indicating a ledge of rock not far above their heads, "we should be safe for another half-hour; do try, Polly. See—" and he climbed a few feet up the cliff, "give me your hand, and try to bear the pain."
There was a minute or two of great anxiety as Polly, driven to desperation, clutched his hand, and, with many exclamations and groans, scrambled after him and perched herself on the ledge, by his side, in comparative safety.
"Oh, my foot!" she sobbed, as she leaned against the cliff and tenderly felt her injured ankle. "Oh, I'm so giddy! I dare not look down." ”

“ It is the greatest thing in the world to be true, for only the truthful soul can ever be happy and fearless. 'Great is the truth, and it will prevail.' That is a proverb worth remembering. Do try to bear it in mind, and humbly ask your Father in Heaven to make you a better—a more truthful boy. God has been very merciful to you, my dear. Have you thought how very near you were to meeting a shocking death when you fell down that clay shaft? You had almost a miraculous escape. Have you thanked God for sparing your life?"
"No, but I will," Edgar responded earnestly. ”

“ It has been very generous of Roger to share his money with you; few brothers would do that, I fancy."
"Wouldn't they?" said Polly, rather surprised. "Don't you think Edgar would if he had a sister? No. I don't expect he would, for Roger says he always keeps the best of everything for himself; I suppose that's because he's never had anyone to share with, Aunt Janie? It's a pity, isn't it? Cousin Becky says it is a misfortune to be an only child."
"Cousin Becky knows nothing about it," Mrs. Marsh said coldly, an expression of displeasure clouding her face. ”

“ Sarah answered, a radiant smile driving the gloom from her face, "so perhaps she—or maybe it's he—will go on helping me till my man's able to work for me and the little ones again. I only wish I knew who it is that is being such a friend to me, that I do. God bless whoever it is, I say—aye, and He will."
"What did you mean about a good fairy, Polly?" questioned Edgar as soon as he and his cousins were out of Sarah's hearing. "There are no fairies nowadays."
"There's one who sends a present to Sarah every week," Polly responded gravely. "Isn't there, Roger?" ”

“ It was impossible not to smile as Roger imitated so exactly the plaintive tone in which his aunt was in the habit of reproving her son; but Cousin Becky became serious again almost immediately.
"It is a terrible thing to be untruthful," she said gravely, "and I believe that, as a rule, one who tells little fibs, as Roger calls them, will not hesitate to utter a big lie when occasion arises. Do you see much of Edgar?" she inquired of Roger. ”

“ Why did you want to pretend the coins and the stamps were yours? Just to show off, I suppose. It was as bad as telling a lie, you know. That's what I can't understand about you—why you won't keep to the truth—" and Roger regarded his companion with a very puzzled expression in his honest, grey eyes.
"I haven't told a fib for ages," Edgar said in a shamed tone, "not since that Sunday when I said I hadn't been smoking when I had. I don't think there's much harm in pretending."
"Oh, but there is! It's making people believe what isn't true," Roger said earnestly. ”

“ Marsh, in spite of her air of prosperity, looked anything but a contented woman.
"Oh, father, Aunt Janie has had a letter from Cousin Becky!" cried Polly, eager to be first with the news.
"Well, I am glad," Mr. Trent declared heartily, as selected a chair by his sister's side and, sitting down, took the letter which she had drawn from her pocket and now offered to him. "You and I were very fond of her when we were youngsters, Janie, and she was very good to us, I remember. What has the dear old body to say for herself?" ”

“ Roger was charmed with the flowers in the winter garden and would have liked to have remained longer to admire their manifold beauties, but Edgar grew impatient and hurried him away. From thence they visited the stable, where the visitor was allowed to smooth the sleek sides of the pair of horses which he longed to be able to drive and, much to the amusement of a groom who stood by chewing a straw, he confessed his ambition to be a coachman when he should be grown-up. ”

“ Go home and keep out of my sight. I never wish to see you again. You are a worse boy than I thought. Go."
"But is Edgar much hurt?" asked Roger, too full of anxiety on his cousin's account to resent his uncle's words. "Oh, Uncle John, tell me, do!"
"I don't know myself," Mr. Marsh replied. "I have sent for a doctor and a carriage to convey my poor boy home. The best thing you can do is to go home yourself."
Roger obeyed without further demur; and half an hour later he turned the corner of Princess Street, and caught sight of Polly's face at the sitting-room window. ”

“ And Polly looked down over herself and reflected that she really must be very ungrateful, seeing that she was clothed, at the present moment, in a frock which her mother had made for her from one of her aunt's cast-off gowns. "She isn't a bit like father," she proceeded; "no one would think they were brother and sister, like Roger and me. Oh, mother, if I was a rich lady and Roger had lost all his money and become quite poor, I know what I'd do!"
"Well?" said Mrs. Trent, inquiringly, amused at the little girl's earnestness. ”

“ His cruelty was probably the result of thoughtlessness, but it ought to be checked."
"Aunt Janie never thinks he does wrong," declared Polly. "And, oh, father, don't you consider it's very strange she doesn't want Cousin Becky to visit her?" she added eagerly.
"Yes, Polly, I do," Mr. Trent admitted with a glance at his wife. "I only wish we were better off so that we could ask Cousin Becky here, but I suppose it's not to be thought of under present circumstances."
"Why not, father?" asked Roger. "Do you think she would not like to come—that she would not like our house?" ”

“ Edgar informed her. He was very inquisitive upon the point himself. "Roger says Cousin Becky hasn't told anyone—not even Uncle Martin. The lady the house belongs to doesn't wish her name to be known."
"How extraordinary!" exclaimed Mrs. Marsh, "And how very mysterious! A lady, you say?" She paused as her son assented, a pucker of thought between her brows. By-and-by she proceeded, turning to her husband, "John, have you considered at all where we shall go this summer? It is quite time we settled upon a place." ”

“ Nevertheless, Roger had no right to hit Edgar. Two wrongs do not make one right."
Polly looked unconvinced. She was a pretty little girl, a year her brother's senior, with fair hair and honest grey eyes.
"I expect Aunt Janie will make a fuss," she observed, "for Edgar's sure to tell her—he's such a little tell-tale—and she always takes his part. That's so unfair. Oh, mother, I can't like Aunt Janie, I can't! I suppose she's kind—oh yes, I know she is, but sometimes I wish she wasn't, and then I shouldn't feel so bad about not liking her more." ”

“ Cousin Becky broke in eagerly, "and I am at liberty to entertain who I like at the Mill House during August; you will be my guests. You do not suggest, I suppose, that I should go to the Mill House alone? Oh, Martin, I have set my heart on our all having a nice holiday together; please do not disappoint me! Think how much good a thorough change of air will do you all. I want to see some roses in your wife's white cheeks, and Polly is looking a great deal too pale. ”

“ I remember when I was your age there was nothing I liked better than a snowballing match with my school-fellows. Rare fun we used to have."
"Fancy, John, Cousin Becky is coming to Beaworthy after all," Mrs. Marsh informed him. "She's going to stay with Martin. Edgar heard from Roger that she is expected to-night."
"Well, I suppose your brother knows what he is about," Mr. Marsh replied, shrugging his shoulders. "You'll have to ask the old lady to spend a day with you, Janie."
"And ask Aunt Mary, too," said Edgar eagerly; "I like Aunt Mary. But don't have Polly, mother." ”

“ The morning had been spent in the gardens, and the afternoon in a long drive into the country; and now the boys had betaken themselves to the stables, whilst Polly, tired with pleasure and excitement, had gladly fallen in with her aunt's suggestion to rest awhile.
"Why should you think so?" Mrs. Marsh asked curiously.
"Because you've such a beautiful home and plenty of money. It must be nice to have plenty of money to be able to give people presents," Polly replied ingenuously, her hand slipping into her pocket to make certain her purse was safe. ”

“ I can never thank you enough—"
"Why, my dear child," interposed Mrs. Marsh, with an amused laugh, "you've thanked me over and over again already."
"Because I feel so very grateful, Aunt Janie. No one ever gave me a half-crown in my life before. Roger has had several, though, and he has always shared them with me; you know, girls don't get as many tips as boys. That doesn't seem fair, does it?" ”

“ I do not know how poor Sarah will manage to feed her children or keep a roof above their heads now."
"There is One who will not forget them," Cousin Becky said softly.
"Can't we help them, mother?" Roger asked. Then as Mrs. Trent looked dubious, he proceeded eagerly, "Oh, surely we can do something? I'll go without sugar in my tea and eat bread and butter only for tea without any cake or jam, and then you'll be able to save that out of your house-keeping money, won't you? And I'll give up my pocket-money too."
"That's only twopence a week, Roger," Polly reminded him. ”

“ I can't go any further."
"But, Polly, you must," he insisted, with a swift glance seawards.
"And I tell you I can't," she said, beginning to cry. "I can't walk, it—it hurts me."
"Oh, here's a pretty kettle of fish!" cried Roger, looking despairingly at his sister.
"Can't you really walk, Polly?" questioned Edgar. "At any rate, try."
She made the attempt; but the few steps she took caused her keen pain; to climb the cliff was out of the question. "She can't do it," Edgar said decidedly. "It's cruel to try and make her. Don't cry, Polly. We'll go back to Lynn and get a boat to fetch you." ”